


the end of history

by xylomylo



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, um...angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 06:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylomylo/pseuds/xylomylo
Summary: "how many times can something happen before it’s no longer a coincidence?" she asks momo, one day during lunch. pokes at her pasta absentmindedly, because it's way too oily to taste any good. but free food is well, free, and nayeon is not complaining.





	the end of history

**Author's Note:**

> i can no longer write <10k fics lmao..someone save me. 
> 
> title from panic! at the disco's nine in the afternoon because i am still a patd whore.. also!! thank you to all who contributed (in one way or another) to this!! u have my heart. hehe.

/

  
  
  


"how many times can something happen before it’s no longer a coincidence?" she asks momo, one day during lunch. pokes at her pasta absentmindedly, because it's way too oily to taste any good. but free food is well,  _ free _ , and nayeon is not complaining. 

 

the lunch crowd is crazy. two weeks in and she's still getting used to working at one of the largest law firms in the country. there's none of the glamour she'd heard about from her seniors, because it's mostly just boring paperwork. reading about cases and queueing up to get a number for the seniors to see the judge. meh. but it's not too bad, because the people are nice, and there's also the slight possibility of making partner in like, less than ten years. big dreams, small steps - she reminds herself to take it easy. 

 

"maybe three?" momo replies, with her mouth full. two weeks is also enough for nayeon to learn how to decipher momo's garbles. as the only two new associates, they pretty much spend everyday together - momo is fun, and way too generous (who in their right mind buys lunch for their colleague almost every day?) and nayeon tries to forget about how fate is currently trying to screw her over. 

 

"why three?" she tilts her head. waits for momo to swallow this time, because as much as she loves watching momo eat, nayeon doesn't want to have to do the heimlich anytime soon. 

 

"if it happens once, it's just a one time thing. a happenstance, maybe." momo puts down her fork. it's a rare occurrence, because her plate is still half full, and it's how nayeon knows she's got the other girl's attention. "the second time? you can still chalk it up to chance, because it's possible, but very unlikely. still a coincidence. but three times?" she laughs. "it's probably god trying to tell you something."

 

nayeon nods, dumbly. tries to swallow the lump at the back of her throat. give thanks to the very same god because momo doesn't probe further. only picks up her fork, when it's clear that nayeon isn't going to say anything else. because people are entitled to secrets. then starts talking about the stupid secretary sitting right outside the partner's room who doesn't seem to understand the concept of an indoor volume. it's enough for nayeon to stop thinking about the past, and maybe her appetite returns. just a little. 

 

maybe momo's oblivious. maybe she's just being nice, but it's everything nayeon needs right now to not let years of progress be reduced to nothing. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


the first time they meet, nayeon is six.

 

it's the first day of grade school. she's excited, because she can already spot some of the kids in the neighbourhood. there's park jihyo who lives right across her, whose mother always makes it a point to give them cookies whenever she bakes. it's always chocolate chip, and it's her favourite. then there's kim dahyun, who always hogs the swings at the playground. nayeon thinks she doesn't want to befriend her, because that’s so selfish. 

 

most of the other kids look friendly, and she's happy only because it means more people to play with. but when she finds her way into her designated class, her seatmate is a girl she doesn't recognise. her extensive collection of coloured pencils draws nayeon's attention, because wow. she'd never knew there could be so many shades of red. or blue. or green. and if that wasn't enough indication that she wasn't from the neighbourhood, the white dress that girl was wearing made her look like a princess. just like the ones in all the storybooks she’d read - expensive, and so, so pretty. it makes her look even prettier despite her shyness, and nayeon decides right there and then that they would be the best of friends.

 

"hi," she takes her seat. "my name is nayeon. i like your coloured pencils!" then smiles because it's what the adults always do when they introduce themselves. it’s worth it, because the girl grins - it’s a little lopsided. but before the other girl can say anything else, the teacher's interrupting them, and whisking her not-seatmate away because  _ jeongyeon, you're supposed to be in the other class! _ all the other kids aren't really paying attention, like the typical six-year-olds they are, and nayeon can only watch as the other girl leaves even before she got to say a word. 

 

then park jihyo ends up sitting beside her, and all is well again. until it's not. 

  
  
  


/

  
  


later, she learns that jeongyeon is new. jihyo introduces them only because their fathers are friends, and nayeon thinks nothing of it other than an excuse to draw with more coloured pencils.

 

even later, they don't hang out much. different classes means different schedules, and nayeon finds herself surrounded by the likes of park jihyo and kim dahyun, who turned out to be the sweetest girl she's ever met (swings aside). jeongyeon spends her time with the other kids in her class, and eventually, the novelty of the colour pencils wore off - again, nayeon thinks nothing of it. forgets about jeongyeon, even. maybe it's just them living out their own lives. separately. 

 

but fate always other plans, it seems. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


it's really funny, how life always comes back full circle. and then also is lowkey depressing, because everyone's moving on with their lives and it's like she's the only loser who's stuck in the past. can't seem to move on with time, and every single time she tries, shit happens.

 

like now. like how fate has decided to throw the one thing she'd tried so hard to forget in her face. again. or rather, the one person who'd left so much of them in herself she wasn't really sure how to function as im nayeon anymore. 

 

"jeongyeon?" her mouth works faster than her brain. then regrets it immediately, because it’s the one thing she shouldn’t have done. because there were a thousand other things she could have done - like walking the other way, for example. the most logical one on the list. because life goes on and heartbreaks are supposed to be temporary. just like everything else. but then that side profile is something that nayeon has burned into the back of her eyelids a long time ago and old habits die hard. really hard. 

 

_ no, not her - _

 

"nayeon?" it's that voice again. the one that had haunted her dreams for a good year or so. the one that used to whisper the softest  _ good nights  _ and promised her the world. nayeon stares, in shock, and it’s like a switch is flipped. feels her heart start to race unfairly, and her palms are suddenly clammy, and this is when she realises that she’s so, so fucked - because she’s back at square one.

 

it’s like she’s nineteen. again. that stupid overachieving college freshman who took extra-credit classes just to make her portfolio stand out, but then later realised it wouldn’t make much of a difference because everyone’s doing it too. living in that tiny dorm, slogging her guts out to get her degree, and stupidly in love with someone who couldn’t love her back. the scar is ripped open with no mercy, and the memories come rushing back.

 

(or maybe she never really forgot.)

 

she smiles. crosses her arms defensively. takes a proper look at jeongyeon, after all these years. the other girl's hair is brown. a little longer now, ending just below her shoulders. it makes her look softer, and so much prettier. maybe it's because she hasn't seen jeongyeon in a really, really long time, but her stomach still drops and her pulse quickens just so. they're both in suits, as per dress code, and jeongyeon looks polished. grown up, and so...different. like she has a direction in life. like she's no longer that stupid girl who wears the same damn hoodie to the same damn lectures every week. 

 

"oh my god." it's the most natural thing to say after meeting an old friend. or someone whom you used to know, and then it's like you don't know them anymore. but things are different now, and nayeon wrestles with her emotions. sweeps them all under the carpet for now, because it’s not her place to feel anything. “what are you doing here?” she makes a show of gasping. maybe the shock on her face is the only thing that’s genuine about the entire situation.

 

jeongyeon laughs, equally shocked. at least, if nayeon still remembers how to read the other girl right. "i could say the same about you." the other girl’s eyes are still the same honey brown she used to drown in all the time, and nayeon makes a mental note not to stare for too long. it’s a slippery slope. 

 

they talk. it turns out jeongyeon’s been here for almost a year. not part of the legal team, of course. she’s always been into marketing and all that jazz. the kind of fluffy bullshit nayeon hates. the conversation isn’t as awkward as she thought it would be, considering how they’d ended things. maybe it’s because they’re both mature adults now, and they’re officially working colleagues - there’s a standard of professionalism to uphold. but as they talk, it’s like nothing has changed. like she’d never left. jeongyeon asks about jihyo, and nayeon asks about sana - it’s like they’ve taken a break from each other, but everything else is the same and it’s  _ terrifyingly  _ familiar. 

 

“congratulations. it’s what you’ve always wanted, right?” jeongyeon says, all of a sudden. “a job in a huge law firm like this, after graduation.” it catches nayeon off-guard, because she may or may not have been too focused on the sound of jeongyeon’s voice, and also because  _ what the hell _ . jeongyeon remembered. then squishes down the hope blooming in her chest because it’s stupid. it’s been her dream since forever, and she’s probably said it a million times to all their other friends - so it’s no doubt jeongyeon would remember. 

 

nayeon nods. “yeah. thank you.” then beams, because she knows jeongyeon means it. it’s in the crinkle of her eyes when she grins, and if nayeon looks closer she thinks it’s a little misty. apologetic. the line between pleasantries and genuine support disappears in that instant, and nayeon is reminded again of jeongyeon’s heart of gold. of how good things used to be. of how easy it was to love each other before responsibilities were dumped on them, and how jeongyeon (still) makes her feel so, so happy.

 

then someone clears their throat really loudly, and the spell is broken. jeongyeon whispers a quick goodbye, with promises of dinner sometime this week, and nayeon can only stare as jeongyeon leaves, again. and watch as her life is, once again, thrown into disarray of the worst kind.

  
  
  


/

  
  


they say college is a time for experimenting. finding out more about yourself. exploring options, be it career related or interests in general, and supposedly the ‘time of your life’. being young and reckless and legally excused for making stupid decisions. 

 

it’s mostly true. nayeon takes it all in stride. campus life is vibrant, excluding the pathetic excuse of a dorm room, and it’s all fun and games until the pressure of doing well sets in - it’s competitive. in her faculty, at least. but at least she has jihyo by her side, and gets to know a couple of other interesting characters living on the same floor as them through various events. because  _ networking is important _ , and it’s also the start of her very, very convoluted fate. 

 

“look who’s here!” jihyo yells. it’s friday night, which means no one’s getting any sleep until six am, probably. they’re drinking, like they always do - something about floor spirit and bonding and yada. also because sana goes home every month and comes back with a shitload of duty free alcohol - just like a typical international student. everyone is grateful, because without it they’d probably start breaking down every now and then (it’s not like they don’t already) and it’s a good, albeit expensive, coping mechanism. 

 

“who?” nayeon whips her head around. maybe a little too quickly, because everything starts spinning. but it stops soon enough for her eyes to settle on the girl who’d just entered. the lounge is packed, but that girl’s bubble gum pink hair makes her stand out like a sore thumb, and nayeon is strangely enamoured. “her? pink hair?”

 

jihyo waves to the pink-haired girl. “yoo jeongyeon from grade school, remember?” the girl (oh, yoo jeongyeon) smiles, waves, and starts walking over - nayeon is still staring unabashedly because wow. pink hair. baby pink hair. it complements jeongyeon’s pale skin perfectly, and she’s still in awe until there’s a hand in her face - 

 

“nayeon, right?” jeongyeon grins. it’s kind of lopsided. then waves again. “fancy meeting the both of you here. the world is way too small, i swear.”

 

“i know!” jihyo nods, a little too furiously. “how have you been?” her words aren’t the slightest bit slurred, but nayeon doesn’t need to look to know that jihyo’s definitely tipsy. she’s also pretty sure that she herself is, too. because how can pink hair make someone look that hot? she doesn’t understand. her train of thought sidetracks because there aren’t any points to support her case, and she really  _ hates  _ it when logic fails.

 

but just when she gets it together to acknowledge jeongyeon’s presence, there’s a really, really shrill scream and something (someone) slams into them. not really them, but more specifically, jeongyeon. it doesn’t help that they’re all huddled up on the sofa - with sana’s extra weight, nayeon feels herself leaning to the left. towards jeongyeon.

 

“you came!” sana giggles. she’s hugging jeongyeon so tightly nayeon wants to laugh at the other girl’s pained expression. it turns out that they’re taking this marketing class together, and have a few mutual friends. nayeon makes a mental note to give sana shit after this because what kind of person doesn’t introduce pretty girls with pink hair to their friends?

 

then something snaps inside her, because  _ what the hell _ . wrings her gut. she watches as jeongyeon’s face softens. returns the hug. as per logic, it’s kind of rare for people who know each other from classes to be that close. and if her memory didn’t fail her, jeongyeon hated hugs (only because jihyo wouldn’t shut up about it), so watching her hug sana like that: there’s clearly something more than meets the eye, and nayeon hates how she has to clamp down on the irrational jealousy that came out of nowhere. 

 

she zones out. finishes her beer. gets another. but she feels jeongyeon’s eyes on her the entire night even as they talk about things she won’t remember the next morning. it’s getting a little annoying, because it’s really distracting and nayeon can’t focus on anything other than the bottle in front of her. every gulp only serves to make her skin burn, and when jihyo and sana excuse themselves to get more drinks, nayeon makes her move.

 

“are you going to ask me out?” she bats her eyelashes. “or are you just going to keep staring?”

 

jeongyeon blinks. then snorts, and nayeon tries to keep the internal panic to a minimum. there was a chance she could have read the signs wrong, because she’s a dumbass and alcohol only amplifies it and -

 

“bold of you to assume i was staring at you.”

 

it’s nayeon’s turn to stare. stupidly, even. but then jeongyeon starts laughing and nayeon thinks she kind of sounds like a madwoman -

 

“lunch, tomorrow? just us two. there’s a lot to catch up on, im nayeon.” jeongyeon’s voice turns serious. sincere, and smiles that same smile that reminds nayeon of the girl in the white dress all those years back. it’s nostalgic, and she ends up agreeing. because it’s always nice to meet old acquaintances. friends, even. meeting up after a long time, and finding out how much the other person has changed, or how much they’ve remained the same? it reflects growth, and maybe nayeon just wants to reconnect with her not-seatmate.

 

it doesn’t help that she dreams of pink hair and lopsided smiles that night (morning).  

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


“you  _ what? _ ” jihyo screeches into her phone. to which sana doesn’t flinch, because it’s who jihyo is. the girl who probably swallowed a mic as a kid. promptly ignores the judgemental stares from the couple sitting beside them, and thinks that the way jihyo flushes in embarrassment is really, really cute.

 

she chuckles. jihyo glares at her playfully, before frowning more seriously. “really? are you just going to forget how long it took you to move on?”

 

this is interesting. it’s obviously nayeon, but -   

 

“don’t be stupid,” jihyo deadpans. “if it didn’t work out once, what makes you think it’s going to now?” she’s sounding increasingly exasperated, and sana can only wait for the impending tea to be spilled. it’s probably about jeongyeon: not like jeongyeon had said anything when they’d last met, but when jihyo had told her that nayeon had gotten a job at that one law firm right smack in the center of the city, it was only a matter of time. watching fate screw nayeon over again? honestly, it’s getting a little dry - if only jeongyeon could get her head out of her ass and spare all of them the unnecessary heartache. 

 

jihyo sips her tea. passionfruit, maybe. it smells really good. then rolls her eyes -

 

“ - it’s never just ‘a dinner’, nayeon - ugh. you know what?” she throws her hands up. “go. it’s not like you’re going to listen to me anyway.”

 

then the silence turns a little cold. sombre. the book in her lap is forgotten, and sana reaches out for jihyo’s other hand on the table. laces their fingers together, because she knows - they try not to talk about it. how they’d watched the ‘rise and fall of im nayeon’, as nayeon herself put it. how difficult it was for jihyo to watch nayeon hit rock bottom, and to let it happen all over again? never.

 

but there are some things people never really learn from, and sana thinks that’s okay. because it probably just means that the pain is worth it.

 

“...i just don’t want you to get hurt again,” jihyo mumbles. squeezes sana’s hand. “promise me you’ll be okay. and don’t do anything stupid, please.”

 

sana smiles. there’s another pause, and then - 

 

“okay. i hope you know what you’re doing.” jihyo sighs. a little too loudly. “call me after?” then hangs up without another word. rubs her eyes tiredly, and starts to spill the tea. season two of ‘the rise and fall of im nayeon’ has officially begun, and sana can only hope that it won’t end as badly as the first.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


it’s sometime after midnight. one, maybe. she’d stopped keeping track only because things have long since blurred into a messy limbo. such is the life of a final year law student cramming for midterms, and everything else. it’s definitely an experience.

 

nayeon sighs. reading after reading, trial after trial - it keeps her busy. there is absolutely no time to think about useless things like romance and heartbreak, and this is why she loves the law. because there’s always new developments in the ongoing cases, which means new things to analyze. memorise. it’s never ending. 

 

plus, piecing together arguments from logic alone? it’s a whole kink. especially when the professor doesn’t see it coming. logic is her best friend, because it’s always something she can fall back on.  

 

but then the door to her room opens loudly, and she feels the bubble of concentration burst. curses loudly. readies more insults, because a sleep deprived nayeon is a really bad tempered nayeon - until familiar arms wrap around her from behind and her mind blanks instantly. the anger dissipates, and she hates how her body still has the same reaction to the touch she’d spent the entire year trying to forget. fuck midterms.

 

“run away with me,” jeongyeon murmurs into her neck, hot breath burning through her paper skin. stirring up feelings she’d thought she’d locked away. the other girl reeks of alcohol, and nayeon grabs the hands around her shoulders. stands up. turns around until they’re facing each other - 

 

jeongyeon is  _ wasted _ . and also wearing that stupid adidas hoodie. again. there are so many questions to be asked. like why, what, how. the five w’s and one h. if she’d forgotten about them. if she’d moved on. then settles on a “how much did you drink?” because it’s relatively neutral, and she’s a little curious. because jeongyeon doesn’t usually drink - something must have happened. something important enough to make her want to forget. something with her family, maybe. 

 

“i don’t know,” the other girl giggles. “sana has some in her room. a lot of it. did you know that?” then wobbles a little - nayeon moves to steady her. grabs her waist, and thinks about sitting jeongyeon down on her bed. but doesn’t want to risk it, because drunk jeongyeon is a really, really clingy jeongyeon -

 

“you’re really pretty.” jeongyeon’s looking at her. the distance between them disappears at an alarming rate, because the alcohol makes jeongyeon’s eyes all glossy and shiny. it makes her remember all the nights they’d spent doing nothing, and how she’d tried to trace out her own constellation in the other girl’s eyes, in this very same room - 

 

“run away with me,” the other girl repeats, lips right at nayeon’s. not touching, but hovering dangerously close. waiting. it’s like all the air in the room disappears, and there’s only jeongyeon. like she’s supposed to breathe in jeongyeon, and undo the pain that comes with being the martyr because  _ loving someone means letting them go, nayeon!  _ and she’s not sure if that’s something she can do. or wants to do. 

 

(it’s a lie. it’s the only thing she’s been thinking of ever since.)

 

“please?” it’s said so quietly she doesn’t even know if she’d heard it right. but jeongyeon’s fingers are digging into nayeon’s waist through her shirt and it chips away her resolve. this is everything she’d ever wanted, right in front of her, on a silver platter - but she hates that she knows that it’s just an illusion. that everything that happens tonight won’t matter the next morning, because jeongyeon’s priority is still her family, and it’s not going to take a drunken confession for nayeon to come close. despite how much she claims to love her. because love isn’t everything. 

 

“i don’t think i can live without you.” jeongyeon whispers. “it’s not the same. i’m - i’m losing it.” she runs her fingers through her own hair. it’s pure agony, and nayeon doesn’t remember the last time she’d seen jeongyeon like this. something in her chest cracks. it’s a losing battle - she saw it coming. because this is the only time logic will fail her, as it has failed her so many times before. because it’s been so long. because everything she’d tried so hard to bury comes back to punch her in the gut and it hurts. 

 

there’s a hand on her cheek now. it anchors her. traps her. nayeon doesn’t look away. can’t look away, because she’s always been so weak whenever it comes to jeongyeon. 

 

“i miss you so much.” jeongyeon says, pitifully. it’s raw. vulnerable, and exposed, and nayeon’s chest squeezes. it’s the last straw. she takes a deep breath. takes a leap of faith, and gives in. allows herself a moment of weakness because she’s been in so, so much pain. releases her herself from her own shackles, and stops resisting. raises the white flag in a selfish surrender. closes the remaining distance, and kisses jeongyeon. because if she can’t have her forever, she’ll have her for one last time. just one more time.

 

it’s warm. jeongyeon tastes like sake. and also regret. it’s a little bitter, but mostly familiar, and nayeon feels free for the first time in a really, really long time. it’s like finally surfacing for air after struggling. drowning. to finally have what she’s always wanted in the palm of her hand. the happiness she’s spent many, many nights crying for. questioning everything.

 

she feels the bed on her back. drunk jeongyeon has a one track mind. but it’s still jeongyeon, and nayeon hates how she unravels so quickly. it’s embarrassing, because her body remembers. but it’s quickly levelled out because it only means that jeongyeon remembers, too. remembers the spot right below her earlobe. remembers the other one right above her collarbone that makes her moan a little too loudly. then hates how she feels jeongyeon grin smugly into her neck.

 

her shirt disappears, together with whatever’s left of her dignity. it isn’t cold. her body burns an inferno that births hope. embeds it into the fringes of her vision, despite how deceptively convincing it is, and nayeon takes it all in. cards her fingers into jeongyeon’s hair, and holds on for dear life. because it feels so, so good, to finally have jeongyeon back in her arms, right where she’s pretty sure the other girl was meant to be. like that stupid puzzle piece analogy jihyo wouldn’t shut up about. because they were so good together. because no one could make her love like jeongyeon could. 

 

she comes. it’s fast and hard and isn’t enough. jeongyeon is all pressed up against her and warm and content - but nayeon wants more. wants to make the most of it, because time is running out. it’s probably going to be the last time. and then never. relapsed addicts don’t have morals. can’t think straight, and live in the moment - so she takes. slips her fingers past the waistband of jeongyeon’s sweatpants, and sucks hickey after hickey onto jeongyeon’s neck. right above where the collars of her shirts would end, so it would be visible, still. a souvenir of sorts.  

 

“i miss you so much,” nayeon ends up saying. “every single day.” feels jeongyeon’s legs clamp around her own. watches the other girl push her hips into the thigh slotted inbetween, as they stutter and arch up one last time. nayeon clenches her jaw. does her best to memorise how the girl underneath her looks - beautiful. red lips. pale chest. messy haired. saves it in the recesses of her mind to remind her of the meaning of love. what it is, exactly. 

 

jeongyeon doesn’t leave. her eyes are hooded, and nayeon thinks that she, too, teeters along the edges of sleep. but there’s still some time before dawn, and every second is precious. 

 

“where do you want to go?” she strokes jeongyeon’s hair softly. “if we were to run away. away from your parents. away from everyone else.”

 

jeongyeon intertwines their fingers. the silence is anything but uncomfortable. it’s nice. it’s like they’ve gone back in time, living their lives however they want to, and nayeon basks in nothing but the high of this acid trip. 

 

“...maldives.” there’s a mumble. “you’ve always wanted to go there, right?” her words are slurred together, but nayeon hears it loud and clear this time. feels her heart break all over again. not that it ever healed completely. because jeongyeon is still the same - sweet, caring, and always putting others first. because she knows things between them would still be the same, if not for jeongyeon’s stubborn filial piety. 

 

the tears well up in her eyes. this might be the exact moment she realises her mistake. then tries to blink it away. even though the damage is done, there’s still fragments of the illusion they’re living in. fragments that are already fading. slipping away. regret can be for later, when she’s alone and sad. because the love of her life is in her bed, and nayeon can only continue to feel everything that is jeongyeon.

 

“that would be nice,” she croaks out.” thumbs jeongyeon’s knuckles, because it’s the one thing that comforts her best. feels the other girl’s breaths start to even, and prays to god for sleep to come quickly now that she doesn’t want to remember anything. 

 

because all it did was remind her of what she couldn’t have.

  
  


/

  
  
  


the next morning, her bed is cold, and her pillow smells of jeongyeon’s stupid strawberry shampoo. but there are no more tears, because there’s no point crying over milk spilt long ago - the memory is buried with assignments and cases. just like the others.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


the lobby is quiet when the lift doors open. and also way too grand and fancy for nayeon to feel at home, but this is where she’ll be slaving at least two years of her life away and hopefully build something out of herself. maybe she’ll get used used to it eventually. like everything else.

 

jeongyeon’s already there, waiting. waves and grins. it’s d-day, and nayeon tries not to think so much about it. shuts the doubt out. because it’s just a dinner, and that’s all it is. old friends catching up.   

 

“i still can’t believe it,” she says, smiling. it’s the lopsided one. “this firm has thirty floors, and we met on the same one. i mean, what are the chances?” 

 

nayeon laughs. “yeah,” settles on telling the truth. “i couldn’t focus for the rest of that day.” points to the exit, and jeongyeon nods - they start walking. “it was too shocking.”

 

“i sat at my seat and started laughing to myself until my manager thought i’d lost my mind,” jeongyeon chuckles. bumps nayeon’s shoulder playfully. “so we meet again, im nayeon.”

 

“so we meet again, yoo jeongyeon.” nayeon shakes her head. there’s a split second when her eyes meet jeongyeon’s, and it’s just them again, against the world. but nayeon lets it fizzle out. because that’s a chapter that’s already closed, and instead bursts out into laughter. it makes jeongyeon guffaw, loud and uncaring, and it’s nice to know that some things haven’t changed. that jeongyeon still laughs exactly the same, and that her laughter is still incredibly contagious - nayeon soon finds herself doubled over in a laughing fit.  

 

dinner is nice. the food is great. jeongyeon holds the door. pulls out her chair. orders dessert, and pays. to which nayeon tries not to laugh, because jeongyeon is still jeongyeon - the same yoo jeongyeon who effortlessly wormed her way into her heart all those years ago. that stupid thing that beats just a little crazier whenever jeongyeon’s hand brushes against her own. that makes her defy all logic. it’s ridiculous.

 

the catch up is a little vague. there’s a line neither of them wants to cross, so it’s just them tip toeing around it. avoiding it like the plague. but like all things related to them, it’s a ticking time bomb, and nayeon takes the liberty of prodding at the scabs of the old wound that never really healed. 

 

“is your driver here yet?” she asks. they’re just walking around aimlessly, like they used to. the city is bustling. an accurate representation of the actual chaos happening inside her mind, because she doesn’t want to ruin things -

 

“i moved out,” jeongyeon looks away. kicks at the gravel with her heel, and nayeon can’t process the shock that socks her in her own mouth. it doesn’t help that jeongyeon’s eyes are shifty - the other girl is looking unsure and scared for the first time that night and, wow. jeongyeon. moving out? 

 

“oh,” she says, dumbly. waits for her brain to restart before formulating a better response. something that might actually calm the tides in her stomach. “why?”

 

“... we just didn’t see eye to eye anymore.” there’s a sigh. nayeon doesn’t miss the way jeongyeon’s shoulders hunch. watches the edges of the other girl’s mouth tilt downwards, and hates how her first instinct is to want to hug jeongyeon. or hold her hand. it makes her briefly consider the consequences of actually doing either of those - and it’s enough for her to realise how stupid she can be. 

 

the silence elongates. it makes nayeon tense. pushes her train of thought into gear five, and forces her to process the new information she’d just learnt a minute ago: that jeongyeon, the most family oriented person she’d ever known, moved out. something the jeongyeon four years ago would  _ never  _ have done. there’s obviously something more. nayeon isn’t stupid. tries to put together an answer, but ultimately ends up at a loss. 

 

maybe she’s wrong. maybe the jeongyeon beside her today isn’t the same pink-haired jeongyeon she knew back then. maybe people change, because circumstances change, and change is the only way forward -

 

“but why?” nayeon stops walking. it makes jeongyeon to stop, too. because this is serious business, and maybe her curiosity is starting to eat her alive. “is everything alright?”

 

the wind blows just so. it’s a little chilly. then is even more so when jeongyeon doesn’t answer. nayeon holds her breath. thinks about the possibilities - a possible fallout. jeongyeon finding her birth parents. or finding out she’s the illegitimate child of some tycoon. just like that one drama that everyone won’t fucking shut up about -

 

“i decided to start living for myself,” jeongyeon scratches the back of her neck. still doesn’t look at her. oh. the words take some time to sink in. living for  _ herself?  _ that’s… new. different. another side to jeongyeon. one she’d thought she’d never see, because of how the other girl used to be - blindly steadfast to her adoptive parents. 

 

(“they gave me a better life, nayeon.” jeongyeon’s voice is sharp, over the phone. “it’s my duty, don’t you understand?”

 

“yeah.” nayeon spits. “i do.” hangs up without another word, and throws her phone at the wall. the resounding crack echoes in her ears, and reverberates in her chest; even the brightest of flames die when the matchstick burns out.

 

it’s what life’s about, she thinks.)

 

“i never realised how much pain i was in,” she continues. “until last year.” shoves her hands in her pockets. “because i remembered how happy i used to be.” then finally looks up, right at her - nayeon feels the air leave her lungs. because it’s another thing altogether, when everything is laid out. bared. exposed, with no more inhibitions, and all that’s left is to make a decision.

 

nayeon blinks. reading between the lines is already an occupational hazard, but when it comes to jeongyeon, it’s always different. it makes her second-guess herself, and it’s terrifying - how she still has no semblance of self. even after all these years. but jeongyeon smiles, bashfully, and nayeon feels her insides turn into mush. regains some of her self confidence because  _ does that mean what i think it does???  _ and oh my god. it’s happening.

 

they continue walking. there’s a shift in the atmosphere - jeongyeon is coy. flirting. suddenly extra attentive to every single thing that she does, and nayeon thinks her face might actually explode if the other girl leans in one more time. there’s no time to fully comprehend the situation, and she can only adapt - even if it means relying on her instincts. 

 

jeongyeon laughs. nayeon fights the urge to flirt back. tries to get away, before her instincts make her do something stupid. then ends up tripping over her own feet, because she’s lowkey panicking and hasn’t really wrapped her head around the new um,  _ developments  _ in their...friendship (?) and her motor skills were never the best. 

 

her hand shoots out, ready to support herself. but it doesn’t happen, because her feet somehow manages to anchor themselves. mostly. there’s only a brief pause, when she stumbles slightly - but it’s enough for nayeon’s heart to start fluttering when she feels the ghost of jeongyeon’s hand on her waist. steadying. reassuring. always there, like she used to be. 

 

they lock eyes again. her body betrays her, like it always does, because nayeon feels her face heat up, but she doesn’t look away. not this time. it’s her braving through her fears. dipping her feet hesitantly into the waters, and gritting her teeth long enough to realise that it’s warm and nowhere near ice cold - that she lets herself smile, big and easy. 

 

it’s worth it, when the next thing she sees is jeongyeon blushing. because the last time she’d seen jeongyeon blushing was when she’d pressed her lips to jeongyeon’s own for the first time - but jeongyeon is still looking at her like all the stars are closer  _ because _ of her, and nayeon feels like she’s  _ flying _ -

 

up, up, up into the night sky - across the crescent moon that preaches love under the witness of a thousand stars. and for the first time in four years, nayeon feels alive. 

  
  


/

  
  
  


“who’s that?” nayeon grouches, not looking up from her phone. they’re at jeongyeon’s for the weekend because her parents were on a business trip. and well, at this point - nayeon would do anything to leave campus. “do you have a secret admirer or something i should know about?”

 

jeongyeon stills. nayeon doesn’t notice. then kicks jeongyeon’s legs when the other girl sits down on the other side of the couch, and pouts when jeongyeon doesn’t reply. 

 

“don’t be stupid,” the other girl says. pats nayeon’s bare thigh. “it’s just a friend. his parents are business partners with mine, and they’re considering a merger, so it’s only natural we know each other.” 

 

nayeon rolls her eyes. “but calling you on a saturday night?” she folds her arms resolutely, and looks away. “doesn’t he know you’re already attached?”

 

then there are arms around her again, and nayeon hates how she melts instantly. jeongyeon’s chin is on her shoulder, and the other girl’s breaths tickles her ear and suddenly she doesn’t remember what she was going to say. 

 

“he does,” it’s jeongyeon’s turn to pout. “he was just calling about some dinner thing with our parents.” presses her lips to nayeon’s clavicle. “i’m all yours, you know that.”

 

_ three, two, one - _

 

nayeon turns. jeongyeon’s already looking at her lips, and there really isn’t anything else she can do but to smile into the kiss. because every moment with jeongyeon is a high she can never get enough of. it’s like discovering the magic of happiness for the first time, every single time, and all she wants to do is drown in it. 

 

“i love you,” jeongyeon breaks the kiss. pulls back just to whisper the three words in the space between them. thumbs over the shell of her ear, and nayeon’s heart beats a rhythm she’s learnt to associate with love. it’s heady, and the blood rushes to her ears like it always does. her breaths are shorter. her fingers tingle. 

 

“i love you,” nayeon says it back. it’s easy, now - not that it doesn’t mean as much as it used to. it’s not as heavy. it’s still close to her heart, but there’s a kind of satisfaction saying it out loud. how her mouth moves. how it sounds - real. and letting jeongyeon know. not that she doesn’t.

 

they slot together effortlessly. it’s like second nature. as though they were meant to be, with their destiny written in the stars. on days like these, nayeon thinks she was probably born just for the sake of jeongyeon, and vice versa. that they were both made for filling in the missing parts in each other’s life. colouring it in, with shades of orange and red that make up a cosmic brilliance she sees every time she closes her eyes.

 

when jeongyeon kisses her again, the universe aligns, and everything is perfect. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


“are you dating?” momo asks her one day, while they’re walking to court. it catches nayeon off guard, because they’re supposed to be discussing the next case to handle. she tries to keep it cool, but ends up tripping over thin air - thank god for momo’s lightning reflexes. 

 

it’s funny. nayeon giggles. pats momo’s arm in gratitude, then sighs, because she doesn’t even know the answer herself. things are… better. they’ve been spending a lot more time together, jeongyeon and her - but still, they refuse to take that leap of faith and talk about the grey. like, spending four out of five weekday dinners with each other? that’s a whole lot of time dedicated for someone supposedly not-so special. 

 

“what makes you say so?” she settles for a question. deflects. but her underlying curiosity is already dying to find out how momo came to that conclusion. work is supposed to be just work, and her private life is…well, private, and never did she dream they would one day integrate themselves. either momo is really, really perceptive, or she’s probably too obvious. but she’s never once mentioned it to anyone at work, so there’s that. 

 

momo shrugs. ”you seem happier, i guess. i’m happy for you.” the court comes into view. then there’s a three second pause where there’s only the clack of their heels against the concrete, and this is also when nayeon tries to process the words momo said, before the other girl jumpstarts a discussion about the stupid case they were supposed to be done with yesterday.   

 

it’s a mostly seamless transition. but at this point, nayeon knows it’s momo’s way of telling her that she doesn’t need an explanation. that she understands that nayeon will only talk about it when she’s ready.

 

it’s also an option, nayeon thinks. that momo is always ready to listen. but it’s for another day, because the window of opportunity has already closed. besides, momo already has her serious face on - nayeon can only do the same, but not before giving the other girl the tiniest grin of acknowledgement. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


they’re at jeongyeon’s, again. but this time, it’s stilted. quiet. no one says a word, and there’s only the whirring of the aircon that’s keeping her from suffocating in the silence. keeping her sane during the last few weeks spent in this very same living room. there are five hundred miles between jeongyeon and her, despite sitting right next to each other on the couch. 

 

(“who’s this?” jeongyeon’s mother asks, manufactured smile in place. a courtesy nayeon knows she doesn’t deserve, with her scruffed sneakers and worn out jeans. 

 

“this is nayeon,” jeongyeon smiles. “my… friend. from college.” doesn’t look at nayeon. cuts her steak with utmost elegance that doesn’t suit her the least, and chews slowly. 

 

nayeon raises an eyebrow, as discreetly as possible. a friend? she still has no idea why jeongyeon decided to invite her to this family dinner of theirs when the other girl clearly hates her family, and doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night sipping red wine that she’s sure costs more than her entire scholarship.

 

“it’s lovely to meet you, nayeon.” jeongyeon’s mother continues. “i’m glad jeongyeon has a friend like you.” she giggles, before turning to jeongyeon. “be sure to invite her to your wedding next year.” 

 

there’s a pause that stretches a little too long, because  _ what the fuck?  _ and this is where nayeon forgets all her mannerisms and etiquette (that she’d only learnt for jeongyeon), and slams her fork down.

 

“what wedding?” she narrows her eyes. 

 

jeongyeon’s mother giggles, seemingly unfazed. “oh, honey. jeongyeon’s getting married next year to one of our business partner’s son.” then squeals and claps her hands in excitement. “you should see them together, they’re adorable.”

 

then jeongyeon’s father clears his throat, and the table falls silent - it takes everything in nayeon to pick up her fork and finish the rest of the dinner, when she can already feel her heart cracking. slowly.)

 

they haven’t talked, other than the usual  _ how are you?  _ jeongyeon always greets her with. or anyone, to be honest - nayeon wants to laugh at how special she thought she was. they haven’t moved, either; nayeon knows she’s been rereading the same damn page for the better part of the last hour, and it doesn’t help that jeongyeon’s pounding out some essay. because it’s what they were supposed to be doing: studying. the most convenient excuse to hide behind. to pretend that everything’s okay even when jeongyeon’s kisses no longer taste like rainbows. 

 

she caves first, as always. looks at jeongyeon. the other girl’s brows are furrowed so deep they might actually be touching each other, and nayeon knows it’s how jeongyeon looks with a hundred and twenty percent concentration. but she’s still so beautiful and nayeon hates how she can’t think of anything but dragging her finger along the other girl’s jawline. and also jeongyeon’s future that doesn’t include her. it’s all kinds of bleak. even more so when the other girl doesn’t fight for what she really wants. 

 

so what if they love each other? nayeon feels the bile rising at the back of her throat. because love isn’t everything. it’s small, and insignificant, in the world of filial piety and corporate riches - and this is also when nayeon realises that her refusing to back down would only hold jeongyeon back from whatever greatness she’s destined for. like making her parents proud in the only way she knows how to. this is the sad logic of the world she wishes they didn’t subscribe to.

 

she makes up her mind. closes her textbook. stares at the tilted scales of justice on its cover. it’s mocking her, nayeon’s sure of it. because there’s no justice for love. for selflessness. 

 

“let’s break up,” the words ring. they’re loud in the otherwise quiet living room, and nayeon clenches her jaw. wills herself to not cry until she gets back to her room. wills her heart to stay strong for a little bit more, before it shatters into smithereens she can only hope will remain with time. it’s a quick end to something so pointless, but so so deep-seated in her dreams of the future it  _ hurts _ . nayeon blinks, and the future is suddenly empty. because jeongyeon will never end it until she really has to, and nayeon doesn’t think she can bear the pain until then. 

 

jeongyeon finally looks at her. and for a fraction of a second, nayeon wavers. regrets the words she’d uttered. because in jeongyeon’s eyes is a turmoil she has never seen before. there are apologies, and there is longing. the unwillingness to face the truth. desperation to hold on to things that will never last, and then alas - defeat. 

 

“okay,” she says. it’s with finality, and nayeon knows it was the right decision after all. because jeongyeon’s phone rings, and she scurries away to answer it - there are things she will never be destined for. like being jeongyeon’s priority. 

 

heartbreak, nayeon thinks, is the deathly silence of jeongyeon’s apartment.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


“so,” jihyo drawls. sips on her nitro cold brew. conversations with nayeon always require some kind of strong beverage, only because nayeon is too headstrong and stubborn for her own good. “how are things with jeongyeon?” 

 

it’s three pm on a monday afternoon. her boss is overseas for the week, hence the free time, and jihyo knows her well enough to corner her just when she decided to slip out of the office for a break. it doesn’t help that everyone works around the same damn area, and maybe nayeon just wants to keep things to herself for a little while longer.

 

“okay, i guess,” she answers. swirls her cup. “it wasn’t that bad, you know. the dinner, i mean. you can stop worrying.” doesn’t look jihyo in the eye. not yet, at least. the caffeine has yet to kick in before her nerves can be soothed. or be the scapegoat of her terrible decision making skills. either way, jihyo doesn’t look impressed, and nayeon swallows. 

 

“what does ‘okay’ even mean?” jihyo narrows her eyes. “like ‘i’m still in love with her’ okay, or like ‘i’ll never see her again’ okay?” her throat is suddenly tightening on its own accord, and nayeon thinks it’s probably the invisible pressure of jihyo’s fingers around her throat squeezing the air right out of her lungs. 

 

she takes a huge gulp of the scalding coffee. it wakes her up. then clears her throat, and starts telling jihyo everything. from that dinner to the dancing around boundaries, and jeongyeon moving out. it’s a shock to jihyo, from the way her jaw drops - because it’s something they’d thought jeongyeon would never do given her incessant need to pay back her ‘blood debt’, or whatever that means. then lays out her entire heart on the table for jihyo to examine, because it’s what she knows she owes jihyo, at the very least. because jihyo’s been there through it all.

 

there’s more silence. the chatter of the crowd fades into the background, and there’s a strange ringing in her ears. it’s probably her mind projecting her mental status - at a loss, and trying not to panic. because between a second chance at something nayeon’s so, so sure she wants, and the nagging feeling that something might just go wrong, and history would repeat itself - she knows she wouldn’t stop at anything to get it. 

 

besides, things are different now: with jeongyeon’s adoptive parents out of the equation. that means no more of being a puppet, and it’s all the hope nayeon needs to plant the seeds of her future into jeongyeon’s hands. again.

 

jihyo sighs. cracks a wry smile for the first time that day, and nayeon’s lips split into a smile of her own. the weight on her own shoulders drops, all of a sudden. she’s breathing easy. because underneath all the no-bullshit park jihyo is also the same park jihyo who used to be too scared to ask for another fork. who cares way more than she should ever, and nayeon is always thankful. but she’d like to think that jihyo’s accepted it only because she knows that nayeon has already made up her mind. and there’s no going back.

 

go big or go home, right?

 

“i...hope it works out. i really do,” jihyo nods. it’s sincere, but there’s still a shred of doubt visible even from the distance; nayeon pays it no mind. she doesn’t expect jihyo to understand. doesn’t expect anyone to. because even she herself doesn’t. logic doesn’t really explain the things closest to the heart. all she knows is that every cell in ber body is screaming at her to jump headfirst into this… thing with jeongyeon, and that she’s either going to crash and burn, or end up with the happy ending she hopes she deserves. 

 

nayeon laughs. “i hope so too.” 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


being ambushed is undesirable. it’s all kinds of uncomfortable, especially when it’s something you least expect. something you’d thought was out of the equation coming back to bite you in the ass. again. but it’s happened too many times for nayeon to be surprised. when life gives you too many lemons, you eventually learn to eat them, and learn to love how sour it gets. it’s a beauty in its own way, she thinks.

 

nayeon sips on her wine. the very same one that’s probably still more expensive than her salary could ever afford, and keeps her head up. it’s been years, and she still feels inferior, despite being dressed up this time  - but the nayeon she is today knows better than to show it. 

 

“how have you been?” jeongyeon’s mother greets, saccharine smile in full view, but this time nayeon sees right through it. it isn’t every day that your ex-girlfriend-possibly-girlfriend-again’s mother appears on your doorstep to ask you out for dinner for a little ‘catch-up’. jeongyeon claims she hasn’t spoken to her parents in a little over a year, and nayeon can only guess what this meeting is for. 

 

“i’m doing fine,” nayeon tilts her head. gives her best patronising laughter, and waits for the bomb to drop. “what did you want to talk about?” 

 

mrs yoo laughs. “always straight to the point, nayeon. i like it,” she tucks her hair behind her ear, pearl bracelet catching the light. then clears her throat, and looks nayeon straight in the eye. 

 

“i take it that you’re aware of jeongyeon’s...rebellion?” 

 

nayeon nods. mrs yoo laughs again, and nayeon can already see how this is going to end. bites down on the inside of her cheek. because life is never fair, and dear god, how  _ stupid  _ was she to believe that they could actually work out this time? 

 

“she’s everything to me, nayeon. surely you must know.” jeongyeon’s mother says, a little more seriously. 

 

there’s a beat. and then -

 

“please.” it’s tinged with enough embarrassment and desperation that’s so uncharacteristic for someone so dignified and proud, and nayeon can’t help the surprise she feels. because mrs yoo has probably never begged for anything in her life. other than this. this is a woman who’s at the end of her rope, and nayeon hates how they both know she can’t say no. because this is jeongyeon’s future. one that’s brighter without her around, even after all these years - she’s still nothing but the blemish on an otherwise clean and perfectly polished slate. 

 

of course she understands. because the most fundamental building blocks of life is family, and who is she to take away a mother’s child? especially when it’s what parents do - pinning their failed hopes and dreams on their child and doing whatever they can to see it come to fruition. 

 

nayeon looks away. clenches her fist. swallows down the  _ what about me? she’s everything to me, too! _ she wants to yell out loud, because she’s not about to be a self-centered prick, and in the few seconds it takes for her to feel her nails digging into her palm, she accepts her fate. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


the cafe is quiet. it’s a stark contrast to the otherwise busy business district, and on any other day nayeon would relish it. but not today - she’d rather let the noise drown out her own thoughts. 

 

“hey,” jeongyeon slides into the seat opposite hers, slightly breathless. her hair is windswept, evidence of her rushing down, and nayeon appreciates it. it’s last-minute, like most things in life, and she takes it all in. slowly. braces herself for what is to come, and takes a shaky breath.

 

“are you okay?” the other girl leans across the table. there’s worry etched in the eyes that nayeon knows she will miss, and she promises to make it as painless as possible. for the both of them. she shakes her head. forces her smile to reach her eyes, but the way jeongyeon furrows her eyebrows tells her that it’s not working. 

 

nayeon sits a little straighter. swallows. does her best to memorise every inch of the girl of her dreams today, in the seconds she has before the inevitable end they have. because after this, it’ll only be a memory - another one she knows she’ll carry close to her heart. it’s history repeating itself all over again, and it doesn’t make it easier doing this the second time round. at least she already knows what heartbreak feels like, and nayeon can only hope that her body will cope better. from experience. 

 

but then jeongyeon reaches over to squeeze her hand, and nayeon hesitates. remembers that one fleeting memory of jeongyeon asking her to run away together, and briefly considers it. fighting for her own happiness, instead of being a pawn in other people’s. but the desperation in mrs yoo’s eyes was something she can never say no to, and feels her heart squeeze at the impending ache. 

 

she grabs jeongyeon’s hand. laces their fingers together effortlessly, like always, and thumbs across her knuckles. brings it to her lips for the briefest of kisses, and wants to laugh at how confused jeongyeon looks. beautiful jeongyeon, who deserves nothing but the best - that she can never give. 

“i don’t think i can do this anymore,” she says, flatly. drops jeongyeon’s hand. it’s the last page of the book. the part she’d tried so hard to avoid reaching. to finish writing. but like all stories, it has to end, and so she forces herself to write it. write it the way it was always meant to end, right from the beginning - with her heart broken. 

 

nayeon’s jaw tightens. tells jeongyeon about how she doesn’t think they’ll work out. because they’d ended so tragically once, and who’s to say they’ll make it through this time round? she’s not going to stay around to find out. because they’ll never work, simply because their futures will never be aligned. encourages her to go back home, because family is everything, and she herself is definitely not worth jeongyeon giving up on her family. 

 

she exhales, slowly. watches jeongyeon process her word vomit, and purses her lips to keep them from trembling. keeps her tears at bay. it’s like they’re back in jeongyeon’s apartment all those years ago, with the silence stuffing her ears, and jeongyeon’s visible war with herself. it’s like she wants to say something, but doesn’t know what. and nayeon understands, because with them, it’s always difficult. never straightforward. too many emotions and too few words.

 

and then, like all those years ago, jeongyeon nods. utters an “okay,” that’s full of defeat and resignation, and it’s the confirmation nayeon needs to finalise the ending, in all its glory. now all that’s left is to close the book, and put it aside. it’s a story she knows she’ll look back after some time, because it’s beautiful in its own way. because they’ve both tried, and that’s all that matters. because there are larger forces at work, that dictate the matters of the heart - and nayeon will always be powerless. 

 

she blinks. sees the lone tear trailing down jeongyeon’s cheek. her own vision is blurred, and she knows that she, too, is crying. but it doesn’t stop her from standing up, and walking away - not before pressing a kiss to jeongyeon’s hair. a last memory, maybe.

 

this time, the pain isn’t that bad - but maybe she’s already used to it. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


the epilogue writes itself two years later, because fate still won’t leave them alone. it still bothers her, but not as much as she’d expected - this time, she has momo by her side with a hand on her waist to stop her from escaping, and nayeon nods. dismisses momo’s look of worry, and they enter the ballroom. 

 

it’s lavish. everything she hates, but work is work and networking is networking - at least there’s free alcohol. most of these inaugurations do anyway, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all. she’s now a senior, with a more than stable job doing something she’s reasonably passionate about, and it’s more than enough to get her to forget about the void she’d buried deep down in her chest. 

 

but two glasses of champagne aren’t enough to make her forget that they’re at the yoo corporation’s inauguration, and she’d promised momo to make it short. do their basic round of show face, and then leave - because corporate social events are always a bore, and maybe she’d just wanted to see, you know. things. because curiosity always kills the cat. 

‘things’ happen soon after, with the grand announcement of the entrance of yoo corporation’s sole heir, yoo jeongyeon. she walks in, head held high, and with her fiance right by her side. the hottest couple of the year, apparently, because they’d somehow became the talk of the town with his family’s benevolence, and the yoo corporation’s rapid expansion after the merger. 

 

jeongyeon is beautiful. the white light in the ballroom only serves to emphasise her alabaster luminescence, and nayeon finds that she cannot look away, again. it’s her, falling prey to jeongyeon’s altered gravity - the one she’d willingly let herself get sucked into all those years ago. the other girl’s backless dress accentuates all the curves on her body, and it’s no wonder everyone else is staring. just like her.

 

ceo jeongyeon is powerful. she owns the stage. commands everyone’s attention effortlessly. it ends, sooner than expected, and nayeon can’t help but snort into her napkin because some things never change - she knows for a fact that jeongyeon  _ hates _ events like these, and it’s probably her way of trying to cut down on the bullshit. 

 

momo taps her shoulder. points to the door wordlessly, and nayeon nods. but as she stands, jeongyeon  _ looks  _ at her from the table beside, and the void in her quakes. it’s mostly calm, because of how easily she’d accepted reality for what it is. because there’s nothing that might possibility fill it up again. and there’s nothing she can do about it, so why even cry?

 

then jeongyeon’s whispering something to her fiance, and he leaves after a polite bow - she walks towards nayeon. momo’s already out of sight, and nayeon is left alone. but there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, and she smiles.

 

the other girl grins. it’s lopsided, small, and nayeon realises that it’s just them, again. once upon a time, they would have ditched an event as boring as this one, but circumstances will be circumstances, and nayeon’s content to have this little throwback window of it being them against the world. 

 

“you look really pretty tonight,” she offers. looks at the spark in jeongyeon’s eyes - they’re still the same shade of heaven that makes nayeon’s stomach drop, but her body’s smart enough to tense up to remind herself that she doesn’t have the right to feel like that anymore. 

 

“thank you,” jeongyeon smiles. bigger, now, but still a little tight-lipped, and nayeon thinks if she stays any longer jeongyeon will crack. it’s visible in the tightening of jeongyeon’s jaw, and suddenly the dam in her own chest threatens to break. 

 

“congratulations, by the way”, nayeon points at the ring. it’s beautiful. two carat diamond, maybe, because jeongyeon deserves nothing the best. then struggles to bite down on her lip because no, she’s not going to tell jeongyeon about how the bags under her eyes aren’t going away because she can no longer sleep. 

 

jeongyeon bows in gratitude. there’s a waver in her eyes that nayeon pretends not to see, but then someone else calls for jeongyeon, and the window closes. nayeon understands. nods an acknowledgement, and turns to leave. but she makes the mistake of patting jeongyeon’s shoulder as she walks past, because jeongyeon catches her hand. its sudden and quick and nayeon has no time to react. because people are starting to stare, and the part of her that’s still in love with the other girl has to die. now. 

 

she turns to look at jeongyeon. wants to tell her everything. things she’d wanted to say over all the texts she didn’t send. that she’s sorry. that she’s doing great, with the company. that it’s not their fault, because they’d dreamt of something bigger than either of them could handle. because at the very least, when it breaks apart, there’ll be larger pieces to remember it by.

 

and that she’s so, so grateful to have such a beautiful soul be a part of her youth - because it’s about making your mark in the other person’s life. and the light that jeongyeon’d left in her will still glow, forever more. she’s sure of it. 

 

but then jeongyeon blinks. the hope in her eyes are extinguished, and the grip on nayeon’s hand slackens -

 

_ three, two, one - _

 

she lets go. 

  
  


/

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> @xylomyloo on twitter, https://curiouscat.me/xylomyloo if you have questions..? :> until then, <3


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